Love, Lies, and Male Modeling
by GeekCheerleader
Summary: AU Due to an unfortunate circumstance involving her best friend, Sakura Haruno will be pretending to be a male model. However, when the other models get interested, what is this cross dressing heroine to do? MultiSaku
1. Sakaru Haruno

**Love, Lies, and Male Modeling**

**A/N: My cousin was reading Allure magazine, and she pointed out a guy in a dress. He's one of their models. So, the thought crossed my mind that a girl could play a way better guy, because it's okay for a guy to look feminine. So, I jumped up and shouted, "INSPIRATION!" My cousin proceeded to stare at me awkwardly. It seems like a good idea. I see all these fics about male models falling in love with innocent, regular Sakura. Well… Now, Sakura's a model as well. A male model. Of course, eventually they'll find out, romance, comedy, yadayadayada.**

**Summary: All of Konoha's prestigious male models seem to be falling for a new rookie. One problem—Saruka Haruno is a guy. Really? Unbeknownst to them, Saruka is really named Sakura, a young girl who was forced into becoming a male model by her best friend.**

**Disclaimer: I will neverevereverever own Naruto.**

**... What can I say? I like thinking out of the box.**

Chapter One

I sighed, giving an indifferent glance to the crowd. The girls in the front cheered loudly, all sighing in the ecstasy of my presence. My hair was tucked under a beanie, and only a few short strands hung free. My jade green eyes scanned the crowd, and I tilted my chin up. I wore a leather jacket over a black and white striped shirt, along with baggy black jeans. Once I reached the end of the catwalk, I turned and walked back.

My name is Sakaru Haruno, age twenty, male model. Except my real name is_ Sakura_ Haruno. And, uh, I'm not really a man. I'm a girl, I promise.

You're probably wondering why I'm pretending to be a _male_ model if I'm really a girl. Well, it's a really weird story that involves my best friend, Ino Yamanaka. She's the one who was actually the model here. She's this really pretty girl with platinum blonde hair and pastel blue eyes.

I needed money, okay? My family was about to get kicked out of our dinky little apartment, and Ino offered to pay this month's rent if I did her a favor. Ino had gotten her modeling company's famous male model fired through a long series of events that I don't feel like explaining. Her boss told her she needed to find a new male model.

That's where I came in.

She dressed me up like a boy, pinned my already short pink hair into this flat style, and sent me off. The things I do so I won't be homeless, right?

My mother, Tsunade, was working herself to the bone in order to get out of the deep pit of debt we were in, so I couldn't refuse an opportunity to help. Damn selflessness.

After I made it back inside the back room, I walked into one of the stalls to change. Most of the incredibly handsome men were changing right in the back room, but it's obviously understandable that I couldn't do that. I mean, I'm already stuffing my underwear. There would probably be some questions as to why a male model was wearing a bra.

Or maybe just some awkward glances. You never know with these model types. Although, who am I to judge? I'm pretending to be a guy.

I stepped out, now in a red, baggy sweatshirt and blue jeans. I kept my beanie firmly pulled down, so that only a few pink strands slipped out. One of the other models shot me a funny look. I recognized him as Sasuke Uchiha, the younger of the Uchiha heartthrobs. His black hair was spiked backwards, and he had these deep obsidian eyes.

"Sakaru, right?" He narrowed his eyes, "Do the world a favor and quit."

"Huh?" I responded offhandedly, too surprised to change my voice. "Uh," I lowered my voice to what I thought at least decently sounded male, "What are you talking about?"

"Sasuke is trying to tell you that you're not good enough to make it in the male modeling industry," Neji Hyuuga, one of the other models, sighed. He was sitting in a plush red chair, reading a magazine with him on the cover. Egotistic asshole. He had long, brown hair that was tied off at the end, and these pearl white eyes that were somewhat creepy.

"That's not very nice," I muttered, clenching my fists. If I got fired at my first show, Ino wasn't going to give me the money. It was this or prostitution, and I am _not_ giving up my V-card to some creepy old married, cheating bastard. I had to remember that Mother needed the help. School tuition was expensive as well, so I would have to work hard so that I could afford that private school I've had my eye on.

Models get ridiculous salaries. When Ino and Shizune signed me up with the show owner, I nearly had a heart attack.

"Well," Neji's voice brought me out of my thoughts, "It's not my fault you have such a feminine face."

Since I'm really a girl, I guess that's a complement. Although, by the icy tone in his voice, it certainly wasn't intended as one.

I scowled, "You're one to talk. You have girl hair." It wasn't a lie. His hair was better taken care of than my own.

He scowled at me, "You'll be run down and out of work within a week. You can't handle what we do."

"Yes," I placed my hand on my hip and turned my nose up, and spoke in a dramatic and whiny tone, "Because male modeling is _so_ hard." I sneered at him, "Spare me, you arrogant little prick."

I turned, walking over to the row of violet couches, plopping down and whipping out my red cell phone. I'd missed three calls from my mother, who wasn't aware that her daughter was currently male- Or, at least, pretending to be. I was about to call, when my phone was snatched out of my hand.

I looked up, into the smirking faces of Itachi Uchiha, Hidan Jashin, Pein Nagato, Deidara Iwa, and Sasori Akasuna.

I felt like I was in the middle of a soon-to-be gang rape.

"Um," I turned bright red, "C-can I help you?"

"Your voice sounds funny, yeah," Deidara Iwa smirked, tossing my phone back. He looked a lot like a male version of Ino. His long, blonde hair was in a ponytail, and it covered one of his blue eyes. "Do you have a cold?"

"Yes," I replied bluntly, "And it's incredibly contagious, so please go away." I was surrounded by half naked male models. I'm only human! How could I not be blushing like a moron?

"Why the fuck is your fucking face red?" Hidan Jashin sneered. He had slicked back silver hair and violet eyes. He was handsome, but he had quite the mouth on him.

I immediately looked up, forgetting my cover for a second, and muttered, "Having a potty mouth is a bad thing. Didn't mommy teach you?"

He looked shocked for a moment, before making a disgusted face and walking away. He didn't seem the type to walk away. His friends looked shocked as well.

Itachi Uchiha was the older of the Uchiha brothers. He had long, black hair that was tied in a low ponytail and crimson red eyes. He had this silent disposition about him, and I briefly wondered if he worked hard to keep that cold demeanor. I've heard he was quite the womanizer, but I suppose that wouldn't matter much. I'm supposed to be a guy, remember?

Pein Nagato was quiet. I mean, even quieter than Itachi. In the interviews on television, he'd never spoken more than one or two words. He had orange hair and these gray ringed eyes. He had piercings all over, and he had this kind of stoic creepiness. Don't get me wrong, he was a male model for a reason, but I personally wasn't attracted to the actor/model types. That's right—Pein Nagato, Itachi Uchiha, Kisame Hoshigake, Sasori Akasuna, Deidara Iwa, Zetsu—What was his last name again?—, Tobi Uchiha, Madara Uchiha, and Konan Nagato. They were an acting/modeling troup known as the Akatsuki. If you had one of them, you had access to their famous insignia, a red cloud outlined in black.

Anyway, Sasori Akasuna was kind of weird. He had dark red hair, and these warm brown eyes. He looked like he was… How should I put this? He looked like he would smoke some Mary Jane with the local drug dealers. He had that kind of tired look about him. It was part of his charm, I suppose.

I had only seen Zetsu and Kisame on television. They weren't here today. Supposedly, they were off on some shoot. Zetsu was a strange one. His skin was tanner on one side than the other, and his hair was green. Kisame had some sort of disorder that caused his skin and hair to appear blue. I think they're pretty cool though. Kisame does a lot of surfing ads. In fact, I think he's in an upcoming movie. Zetsu actually did a lot with gardening; I'm not actually sure why. Maybe he likes plants. Hooray for logic!

I scowled and stood up; waiting for the text to signal that my ride was here. I wonder where Ino is. She's probably off chatting with her little modeling friends. I sighed in annoyance. It was weird, knowing that my picture would be in some dinky fashion magazine somewhere. Personally, I'd never look for it. Hell, I wouldn't even know that the company was _Konoha Fashions_ if it wasn't written all over the walls. Of course, I'm sure that Ino will giggle and tell me about it for weeks. That, along with the few upcoming gigs she had scheduled. After that, though, Sakaru Haruno will no longer exist. Just me, Sakura Haruno, who will go on with my life.

Damn, that sounded good.

My phone vibrated, and I picked it up, sliding the screen up. I opened the text message, the words confirming that Ino was waiting outside. I set my phone down as I stood, adjusting my clothes to make sure I maintained my cover. I felt a wad of paper come in contact with the back of my head. I turned, my scornful eyes searching for the offender. The group of male models all stood across the room, many of them smirking at me. Bastards. I didn't feel like picking a fight with the entire crew, simply to see who tossed a crumpled piece of paper at me, so I didn't. I decided to be a better person than these arrogant pricks, and I left.

What I didn't realize at the time was that I had left my phone on the seat.

…

I sighed, slipping into Ino's red Ferrari. Maybe if I kept modeling, I could afford one of these. Ha! As if. I'd be out of there as soon as I could. I smiled brightly at my best friend, slipping the beanie off and undoing the pins. My pink hair fell, free at last. I slipped the hoodie off, and pulled the pants down, revealing a t-shirt and some shorts. I had to look different when I exited the security lot, so I wouldn't arouse suspicion that Ino and Sakaru were dating. Ew. Paparazzi are creepy like that.

Anyway, the security guard was an old friend of ours. He turns off the parking lot cameras for about five minutes so Ino can drive me off to some remote part where I can change.

We were just about to drive up to the security gate when I realized that I didn't have my phone. I felt a sinking feeling of horror as I settled upon the idea that I had left it on the couch after I'd been hit with the paper ball.

"Ino," I huffed, "I'm going inside. I need to get my phone."

"You want to get redressed? What if someone recognizes you?" Ino said, quite rationally. However, we both knew that Shikamaru couldn't turn the security cameras off again for me to change. Once, he could say he was doing a safety test to ensure that the cameras were still working. Twice would look suspicious. He was only supposed to do it once a day.

"No, I'll just make something up," I hopped out of the car, walking towards the entrance. A gray haired security guard named Kakashi stopped me,

He held his hand out, "Whoa there girl, where are you going?"

I smiled innocently. It was time to lie. I spoke in my sweetest voice, "You know Sakaru Haruno, right? The new male model? He's my twin brother. He left his cell phone on the couch, and he asked me to go get it."

"Oh," Kakashi smiled through his black mask that covered one of his eyes, "Yeah, you do look just like him. You're cuter, of course. You can go in, just be quick, okay?"

I nodded, thanking him and walking inside. Sucker. Why did he believe me? He didn't even make me show identification. I could be a serial killer! I'm not, but I could be. Didn't he realize that imaginary Sakaru should get off of his lazy ass and get the phone himself? I mean, I know he doesn't exist, but he doesn't know that!

I walked in, scanning the back room nervously. I didn't see my phone on the couch. What happened to it?

"Hey," A gruff voice muttered, "Are you looking for this?" I turned to see Gaara Sabaku, one of the male models. He had blood red hair and eyeliner around sea foam eyes. He had the Japanese kanji for love tattooed above his eye.

I smiled at the phone he held in his hand. "Yes! My brother sent me in." I reached for the phone, grabbing it and putting it in my pocket. I kind of really wanted to hug the phone—It was like getting my young, innocent baby back after she was kidnapped by an evil overlord or something. However, if I hugged my phone, supposedly belonging to my non-existent brother, it would look really weird. So, I attempted to look casual.

Gaara looked focused, staring at me intently, "You really do look like your brother."

I let out a small laugh, "Well, we're twins. The doctor says it's weird that we look so alike though, because we're not identical. I mean, he's a boy and I'm a girl. Of course, he didn't actually say we're weird though. I don't think doctors are allowed to say that. Maybe they are. How would I know?" I'm babbling. Stop babbling, stupid me.

"Right," Gaara said, "I have a sister, but she doesn't look anything like me. Well, maybe I'll see you around the shows?" He just had this self-conscious but handsome look about him, and I felt like melting.

"Um," I felt myself turn red, "Alright. Yeah, definitely." As soon as I said it, I wanted that response back. I couldn't come see the show if I was in it! "Well," I made a desperate attempt to save it, "I mean, they're not really my thing, so I won't make any promises."

"Oh," He turned, "Okay." He looked hurt, and I felt a bit guilty. He shoved his hands into his jean pockets, "I hope I see you around." He walked away.

Well, that didn't work out like I hoped. I suppose models weren't rejected that often. Oh well, it'll give him something to think about, right?

Suddenly, there was a hand on my ass. _That_ certainly won't work out like _he_ hoped.

…

**A/N: Who is the owner of the suspicious hand on Sakura's ass? How will she cope, pretending to be her own twin brother? What exactly happened to get the male model fired, and who was he anyway? WHY ISN'T NARUTO IN A NARUTO FANFICTION? (Don't worry, he'll be here.) You'll learn some more next chapter, so review and stay tuned!**

**I don't have time for a Sakucentric Spotlight, cuz I'm sleepy. I'll put two next chapter. The Super Sakura update will come tomorrow. It's written, but I don't like the ending, so I'm going to see if I can work something prettier out. M'kay? Review, because you lurve me, and I'll update, because I lurve you!**

**G.C.**


	2. Harassment

**Love, Lies, and Male Modeling**

**Chapter Two**

**Disclaimer: I will never own Naruto. Darn.**

**A/N: Hi! This is mainly Sakura being harassed. Oh, and her male name is definitely Sakaru.**

…

I turned, narrowing my eyes into a death glare that could turn Medusa to stone. I mean, I didn't know these model types very well, and they were hot. I'll give them that. I'll be damned if I'd let one of them grab my ass just because he was a little good looking, though. I snarled, about to shout at him, when he spoke.

"Hey, bitch," Hidan smirked, leaning in, "I haven't seen you around this fucking place before. What's your name, sexy?"

"Your mother," I snapped, irritated. I should've guessed that it was Hidan. He was such an ass. If he thought he could get away with this, he had another thing coming. Gaara seemed to have disappeared. At least he wasn't here to see me get angry.

"Fiesty," He chuckled, running his hand through his silver hair, "I fucking like it. You're coming with me. You know, you look kinda like that one fucking model. Sakaru Haruno."

"That's because he's my twin brother," I resorted to the lie again, "He sent me in to get his phone. Something about not wanted to go back in because all the models are a_ssholes_," I looked him up and down with a smirk on my face, "Now _why_ would he say _that_? For the record—_Hidan_, is it? The one in those magazines with the idiotic leather jackets—I'm not going anywhere with you. Go die."

"Whoa, you little bitch," He grabbed my wrist, "Enough playing hard to get. How about we go into that back room and have a little fucking fun. We don't even need a condom. You're pretty cute, I wouldn't mind you having my fucking babies. You should be fucking honored—"

"Let go," I attempted to yank my arm away, "You testosterone-filled, hormonal freak!"

"Wow," Hidan peered closely, "You really do look like your fucking brother. It's—"

"Hidan," A voice mumbled, "What's going on here? Inappropriate behavior is not tolerated here." I turned to see Neji—I have to admit, at this point I wouldn't be any more relieved if Jesus himself was standing there. I didn't care who it was. Just make Hidan leave me the hell alone.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Hyuuga." Hidan snapped, as I leaned over and bit his wrist. He yelped loudly, and then hissed, "You little bitch!"

He released his grip, and I practically dived away.

Neji looked amused, "Girl, what are you doing in here?" A crowd began to form, and I felt as if I had started shrinking. They were all male models, and here I was—I mean, I was still a girl before, but at least they_ thought_ I was a guy.

"I was getting my brother's phone," I muttered, glancing around like a rabbit surrounded by foxes, "If you don't leave me alone, you better check your shoes for razor blades every morning," I gave a sinister grin, "Now disappear, mortal."

"Wait a fucking minute," Hidan reached for my arm again.

I gave small smile, strands of my cherry pink hair hanging in my eyes, "We really gonna do this again? I'll slit your throat open and watch the_ aids_ pour out. I'll gouge your eyes out and let some gangbanger skull fuck you. Do you really want to go down this metaphorical road?"

Hidan froze, but gave a seductive smirk, "Hey, I'm good with whatever turns you fucking on, baby."

I scowled. Masochist.

"What's going on here?" A deep, velvety voice spoke up.

I turned to see Ino's god (Erm, not really, but pretty close. She practically worships him). He had long black hair, slightly spiked and messy. He was older, about twenty seven, but there was this amazing elegance about him that made him seem timeless. He had crimson eyes, and pale, flawless features.

It was famed movie star and model, Madara Uchiha.

Had Ino been here, she may have melted.

"Nothing, Uncle," Sasuke snapped. Uncle? Oh, they were related, weren't they?

"Uh," I stammered, "I-I-I, uhh…"

"What a lovely blossom," Madara knelt down, placing a finger under my chin and tilting it up, "May I ask your name, fair goddess?"

I didn't respond, utterly shell-shocked and fairly useless at the moment.

Madara gave an incredibly plastered on smile, his white teeth glistening, and whispered huskily, "Have I rendered you speechless? Come now, beautiful, tell me your name. Surely it must be as exquisite as yourself."

"Peh—" I squeaked.

"What was that?" Madara tilted my head up even more, leaning closer so that I could definitely feel his breath.

"Pedophile!" I shrieked, smacking him across the face. I stood up, hissing like a rabid cat, and scowled at the group of men.

"What?" Madara looked at me as if my actions were blasphemous, holding his cheek as if I'd stabbed him there instead of slapped him, "You—You hit me!"

"You listen here," I motioned wildly, speaking to the growing crowd, "You listen here, all of you! You're all horrible people!" I sucked in a deep breath, "I'm sure you all have your weird little fan clubs or whatever, but I'm no fangirl. Hell, I don't even like you people. My—" I narrowed my eyes, "—brother hates your guts, therefore I hate your guts. So please, kindly, kiss off and die or I'll shove my foot so far up your ass you'll choke on my toes. M'kay?" I glanced around at the awestruck faces and decided to leave it at that, "M'kay." I turned, and calmly walked outside, my phone in tow this time.

I stomped outside, and realized something of dire importance.

Ino had left me.

…

I glanced around, cursing only in my mind for the moment. I then let out a pitiful sigh. At least, it must've sounded pitiful, because the next thing I knew, there was the noise of someone's throat clearing.

"I could drive you home, if you needed a ride," It was Itachi. I inwardly thanked the heavens that it wasn't Hidan, Sasuke, or any of the other people I hadn't been getting along with. It might've been better if it was Gaara, but I didn't want him to know where I lived.

I didn't care if Itachi knew though.

"Okay," I spoke, "Yeah, sure. I guess my brother couldn't wait. Something must've come up." On second thought, Itachi was on a motorcycle. While motorcycles were sexy, I'd never actually been on one before. Was it safe?

Itachi tossed me a helmet, and I hesitated but put it on in the end. I sat behind him, trying to avoid the awkwardness of being pressed against his back by sitting as straight as physically possible. It wasn't easy. Trust me.

Itachi let out a low chuckle, "You might want to scoot closer, or the wind might overwhelm you."

"I'm good," I replied bravely, quite sure that I could force myself to stay in this position. I gave him instructions towards my house, and he nodded. The motorcycle gave a loud roar, and we took off.

Within ten minutes, my arms were wrapped around his waist and my eyes were squeezed shut in a silent prayer, hoping I wouldn't die today. How bad would that suck?

Soon enough, we were there. I was face to face with my cheap apartment building. Without a glance at Itachi, who was probably making a disgusted face, I shouted a thank you and ran to the door. I quickly unlocked it and slipped inside.

My feet pounded on the stairs, and I reached my floor. A boy stepped out from the apartment next to mine. "Hey," His loud, cheery voice piped up, "Sakura, where've you been?" His voice suddenly turned serious, "Are you crying?"

"I'm not!" I totally was. I wouldn't admit I was crying out loud if I was drowning in my own tears. It was stupid to be ashamed. Just because those people were models, that doesn't mean they're better than me. Ino was a model, and she came here all the time.

I know that's not the same. It was stupid. It was definitely stupid, but on some deep, primitive level of my brain, I wanted approval. I wanted my life to be worth something in the world. But when I look at the place I live, I don't feel fulfilled.

I feel poor. Cheap. Worthless.

"Sakura," My neighbor sighed, "Don't lie." He pulled my into a tight hug, "It's bad for your heart." His name was Naruto. He had blonde hair and pretty blue eyes. I've known him since we were little.

"Is there medical evidence to back that up?" I sniffled, my cheek pressed against his ridiculously bright orange and black jacket.

"No," Naruto admitted, "But let's get you some ramen, okay?"

I muttered, "I'm sick of ramen", weakly protesting. He ate it every day. How was he not fat?

"Blasphemy," Naruto pulled me inside, grabbing a package and preparing it for the microwave.

…

The next day, I was in my boy disguise again. Ino was nowhere to be found—she wasn't answering her cell phone. I hope she didn't get kidnapped.

So, I rode the bus to the show. Isn't that lame? Even though I had only made my premiere yesterday, a few screaming girls recognized me and insisted on posing for various pictures with me. I tried calling Ino again, contemplating calling the police and making a missing person report as soon as the twenty four hour rule had passed, when a miracle happened.

She answered the phone with a cheery, "Hello?"

I had to force myself to use the masculine voice, "It's Sakaru, where the hell have you been?"

"Oh," She paused, "Sorry for leaving you. I'm doing a shoot in Hawaii. Oh, but don't worry, I have a spy in there to make sure you go to the shoot."

"A spy?" I snorted, "This isn't a _conspiracy_. Once I get that paycheck, I'm _out_. Bye." I hung up, too angry to deal with her at the moment. I mean, she could have at least told me. I spent the entire night worrying about her. Although, I suppose she can't answer the phone on that plane ride.

I softened a bit. Maybe she didn't know about it. I actually hear that happens to her a lot. Her agent suddenly schedules shoots, and she'd have to leave right then or risk missing out on a paycheck. She was probably in so much of a rush that she forgot to say anything.

I stepped off of the bus, feeling guilty for being angry with her. This isn't the first time she's had to do something like this.

"Hello, Sakaru," I turned to face Neji, who was—for some reason or another—not glaring at me as though I should be dirt under his shoes, "Nice weather today, correct?" He looked a bit _under _the weather, if I may use such a stupid pun. I already did, so it's too late to correct it.

"Are you alright?" I asked, "You don't look—" As _pompous_ and _egotistic _as usual? "—as well as normal." Maybe he was sick. I felt kinda bad for him. Working when you're sick must suck really badly, especially when your job is to look healthy and well taken care of.

"Oh," He responded, his eyes lighting up a bit as he probably assumed this was incredibly friendly conversation, "Well, my limo driver was late this morning, so I called in for the helicopter, which messed up my hair. I had to call in a professional team to fix it," He finished, "Isn't that tragic?"

I nearly deadpanned, pouting and letting out a bitter, "Shut up."

Ugh. _Models_.

…

**A/N: Okay, okay. I'll be honest here. I haven't updated in a long time. But that's only because my siblings—they actually read this, but don't have an account, so you can assume that if it's on my favorite list, they've read it. Well, I got my computer back a few days after I posted Coral Crown. They were so disappointed that none of you reviewed in Atlantian that they took my computer and put it on top of a cabinet. (My leg, remember?) So, it's stuck there.**

**They're actually still holding it hostage. I finally gave up and retyped it on my brother's computer. I owe you all that much, ne? **

**It's still on top of the damn cabinet, and my parents think it's funny. On a sad note, I don't get to go to cheer camp (Ginny still does though, so I hope she has fun!~) I still get to cheer at school though, but I won't be able to do jumps for a while.**

**Oh, and call me Gin now. Calling us both Ginny is too confusing, and she called the nickname first.**

**So, until my leg heals or someone takes pity on me (Or Ginny gets home from vaycay and camp), updates will be sparse.**

**On that note…**

**Our SakuCentric Spotlight is…**

**Violence is Not the Answer by Lady Icicle**

**I promised her one of these a long time ago. I meant to put it in Coral Crown, but I forgot to add it on the end since I was in such a rush. I was going to edit it, but I decided I'll leave it, and use the Spotlight in a more popular fic of mine. I positively love it. Kakashi's such a silly pervert. So is Madara—him and his shiny teeth. What Sakura's parents did is both evil and cruel, and yet I'd totally believe it would be something a socialite might do. All for a fight. I hope to see how the council of Oto high might reappear—After all, they are an evil that must be stopped! Cha! Plus, I wonder when a confrontation with her parents will happen. It will, right? Anyway… The boys are all falling for her (As they should). It's so cute! I eagerly await the update.**

**Although, I need to update my own stuff. Sigh. That won't happen for a while, though. Since I'm not going to cheerleading camp, my parents are taking me on vacation. No, I'm not bringing my computer. I'll be back at some point next week.**

**I got my school schedule. Guess who doesn't have a third period? What am I gonna do, sit in the hallway? Small town schools suck. **

**~Gin**


	3. Photo Shoot

**Love, Lies, and Male Modeling**

**Chapter Three**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, Apple, of Facebook. If I did, I'd be off shopping.**

**A/N: I didn't edit this at all. So, there are probably spelling errors. :D**

Honestly, photography has never really been my thing. The extent of my experience involves my Ipod and Facebook. So, here I am on a set, waiting with three of my enemies, for the calendar shoot.

I wasn't particularly interested in this kind of thing. The calendar on my desk at home was filled with pretty pictures of scenery, not scandalous pictures of men. Okay, _Ino's_ calendar was full of scandalous pictures of men. But hey, who was I to judge? Besides, biceps are not the enemy. The idiotic jerks who wear them are.

I don't exactly have the best attitude towards these body builder types. Not for me. See, Ino has told me stories about her model ex-boyfriend. I couldn't quite remember his name, but I knew what he looked like. He's not as popular as he once was, I'm afraid. Anyway, he would leave her in the dust to go to shoots in Hong Kong, Hawaii, Paris—Everywhere. He's flirt with foreign women and brag about his adventures. Ino's self confidence got pretty small. Considering how loud and flamboyant she is now, it's hard to imagine. It's a good thing her confidence boosted once she became a model herself.

But it happened. Male models are dangerous.

Anyway, I was standing between two of my enemies, Sasuke and Neji. I'd have preferred them to switch with Gaara and Itachi.

Gaara was just so—Gaara. Okay, me, stop thinking about him before you start drooling. I do not fangirl. I simply admire. And Itachi? Well, he seemed nice enough. He gave me a ride home, and he didn't burst into a fit of laughter after seeing my apartment. But he was probably only being nice because I was some little needy girl. Yeah, that's it. He couldn't genuinely be looking out for the sister of that new model they all hate, right?

Well, okay, I _am_ the model they hate, but they don't know that.

"Hey, Sakaru," Neji's smooth voice snapped me out of my daydream.

"Yeah?" I responded, then quickly deepened my voice to the rugged male tone I'd actually become quite good at, "Uh, what?"

Neji looked at me for a moment, his pearl colored eyes searching my face. Inwardly, I panicked. What if he knew? Finally, he spoke, "It's about your sister."

Sasuke, who had been slouching against the wall until this moment, looked up, "Yeah, your sister—the one you sent for your phone." I inwardly rolled my eyes. I only had one sister, because I definitely don't have any other siblings, and I'm myself.

Uh… Sakura doesn't have siblings because Sakaru doesn't exist. _Right_. I spoke, glancing at the boys, "What about my sister?"

"Well," Neji leaned in, "She seems interesting, you know? What's she like?" Honestly, I was a bit flabbergasted. I mean personality, really? I didn't know model types looked for that, especially in first impressions. I'd think they were after the body.

Sasuke seemed interested too. I froze. I'd never had to describe myself to someone before. "Well," I started, "She doesn't put up with any crap. She fights for her friends like her life depends on it. She's never been on a date, because she always says no. Sakura is just… Sakura." I guess that describes me well enough. Though, burning pride insisted on me saying, "And most importantly, she hates models."

And I did.

They just stared at me for a few moments, and then Sasuke spoke.

"So, can I have her number?"

Psh. Um, hell to the _no_.

.

..

.

I was posing next to Itachi, and it was pretty awkward. See, I still don't know what kind of judgments are whirling around in his head right now. After all, he could still be disgusted from my house. I bet he lives in a mansion. Hell, I bet he's never seen a house like that in his life.

They placed me next to him, dressed in a green and white striped polo, along with some khaki shorts. Itachi had a pair of black swimming trunks, and was shirtless except for a seashell necklace. Okay, I admit, I inwardly swooned. But it was still Itachi, related to the other Uchihas. Just thinking about the pedophile incident makes me shutter.

My hair was in a green beanie, and the photographer leaned us against the side of a jeep. I did my best to strike a cool, somewhat manly pose. Apparently, the photographer found it acceptable. Or so I thought.

"Perfect," The photographer chirped. I smiled, thinking I had pulled off the boy appeal. That is, until he spoke again, "Sakaru, you look like an innocent, feminine lamb. Utterly adorable. You can go now."

Apparently, I need to work on my manly poses.

And that's when _it _walked in. The nightmare of every male model.

Karin.

Nope, no last name. Just_ Karin_.

She was pretty, I'll give her that. Her red hair was messy on one side, and straight on the other. Karin had thick framed glasses. All in all, she was a tall and lean model machine.

But she was still a nightmare. See, rumor has it that she'll sleep with any male model she works with. They say she likes to spread the Karin Cooties, if you know what I mean.

That'd be STDs if you don't.

She had a magenta mini-skirt on, along with a black tube top and heels. Her eyes scanned over the lineup of male models, each one cringing at her overly seductive gaze.

A few words were spoken to the photographer, and she turned her pointed gaze towards me. The corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk, "I wanna work with the pink haired one."

I sincerely heard Neji Hyuuga gulp.

God, if you're up there, please don't let Karin rape me.

.

..

.

**A/N: Incredibly super short, because I'm in after school at the moment, and I'm supposed to be doing homework. I've been utterly, utterly busy, so… Sorry! I figured a short something was better than nothing.**

**~Gin**


	4. The Wrath of Madara

**Love, Lies, and Male Modeling**

**(A/N: Ketsueki no Kuki, this is dedicated to you, full of your precious Madara. ;D Worth the wait, I hope, but probably not. Ahahah. Ha. Don't worry, dahhhhling, I adore you. Someone has to keep me alive on here. Thank goodness you're doing it, or I'd just keep procrastinating. -.-)**

.:::.

If I die tonight, I was, absolutely and without a question, haunting Ino Yamanaka.

A pair of stilettos clicked threateningly against the hall's tile, and through the open door the feet came into view. From under this desk, I could only see so much, but it was imperative that I not be discovered by the evil owner of those evil shoes.

Well, okay, in all fairness the shoes probably did nothing wrong. Still, the owner is a loon, and I'm sure it diffused. Natural flow, high to low. Ah, science.

The shoes paused, and I tensed, my nails digging into the surprisingly plush carpet of whoever's office I was in. Have they always made carpet this soft? Why? Who takes their shoes off at a modeling agency? That seems kind of disgusting. Perhaps it was designed for this very purpose, so young women masquerading as men would have refuge from crazed stalkers.

In that case, said carpet maker should get a raise.

"Haruno?" Karin called out, attempting to make her voice low and seductive, "Where are you? We need to spend some quality time together." Instead of achieving the result she wanted, I shivered in fright. That woman was terrifying.

"Karin," a smooth, masculine voice called out, "the director says you'll be working with Sasuke and Itachi." When this earned a squeal of approval, the voice continued, "Be gentle to my nephews. They're not interested," the formerly suave voice took a cruel dip, "and frankly, I don't think someone like you is worth their time." Stifling a snort, I huddled under the desk, curious as to her response. Karin was famous for her tempers, and I needed to see how this would pan out.

Sure enough, her next words were laced with self-righteous malice, "Cool it, old man. I get it, you want me. I'm just more into your nephews." There was nothing in that conversation that suggested the owner of the voice, Sasuke and Itachi's apparent Uncle, had any attraction to the crazed redhead. Who was Sasuke and Itachi's uncle, though?

"Very well, Karin, have a good shoot," footsteps neared, elegant leather shoes making their way into the office I had been hiding in. That's when it hit me; I remembered a conversation that had taken place in what seemed like another lifetime. One of the Uchihas had referred to Madara Uchiha as their uncle.

The _pervert_.

I held my breath, silently praying that he would find nothing of importance in the office and make his way out. Unfortunately, the shoes slowed by the open gap, standing silently, as silently as death.

"Sakura? You can come out from under there now." I tensed, nearly shrieking in fright. Not only was the voice definitely that of Madara Uchiha, he had used her real name. I stayed still, choosing to pretend that if I ignored him, he would wander away. I obviously didn't know Uchihas very well, because his feet didn't move an inch.

"Sakura," he began again, sounding rather impatient, "I'm not an idiot. I can see pink hair down there. Isn't that you?"

My lie dawned upon me. He might think I'm Sakura at the moment, but he didn't know Sakaru and I were one in the same. "Uh," I started, feigning my masculine voice, "It's Sakaru. Sakura didn't visit today." I only hoped I hadn't been truly exposed. Madara was something of a womanizer, so perhaps he actually could tell. It was actually pretty insulting that no one figured it out. Granted, I've only been working here for a short while, but I'm feminine, dammit!

"Oh." The way Madara said it spokes volumes of his disappointment, the distinct syllable clear and abrupt. It made me blush, thinking he had been looking forward to seeing the real me, who he had in actuality just met. Then I found myself insulted; wasn't my personality enough to make me good company either way? The pervert must be into me for my body, then.

Sliding out from under the desk, I shot the older man a quick glare, before asking, "What brought you to these parts?"

"Well, I saw Karin here, and heard her calling out your last name," Madara offered a silky smile, one that made me unsure whether I could trust him. Still, as he continued, his voice made me want to, "And I admittedly got my hopes up. If it's not too forward of me, may I ask if your sister will be visiting these parts again soon?"

Firming my resolve, my famous temper reared its ugly head, and I sneered, "My sister doesn't want to visit a bunch of lousy playboys like you. They disgust her."

He was so serious, so somber in that moment, that I wondered if he'd dare hit me for the insult. I was technically a boy right now, so it wouldn't be against his morals. He could. I wondered if he was strong. I wondered if I could take him on; I'd put up a hell of a fight, if it came down to it. Probably break a rib or two, and laugh maniacally if I did so.

I was so busy assessing the legal damage of this possibility I missed half of what he was saying, ending in, "—seven tonight." So, of course, my response was an ever intelligent, "Hahhh?"

"We'll prove young miss Haruno wrong," Madara started again, mischief flashing through his crimson eyes, "I assure you, Sakaru, we can be perfect gentlemen. We will see your sister at seven o'clock sharp, at the Palace of Fans. Tell her to dress nicely, preferably in a little black dress."

"And if she doesn't want to go?" I snapped, incredulous. How dare they demand that of me?! This was definitely not how a gentleman asked.

"Then I assure you," his eyes visibly darkened, his voice never losing that suave, formal lilt, "we will make your life here hell, Sakaru. And we'll begin be forcing one Karin onto you, but trust me, it will not end there. You will see the wrath we have in store should you not comply with my wishes." As he turned, his thick hair swaying elegantly as he did so, he uttered one final command before disappearing around the corner.

"Be there, or else."

I think Madara Uchiha was some sort of crime lord in a past life.

.:::.

**(A/N: I'm not totally happy with this, but an update's better than no update. I have some cute ideas for the date. ^. So, while I'm thinking of something so cute, expect it soon. I'm alive, all's well, and I'll be taking care of my stories before I ever address doodlebug720's. I also have college applications. Senior year, sweethearts. Scholarships will probably keep me busy, but it's definitely not going to be a year until my next update. I know this was terribly short, but it was kind of a Madara filled filler. Yeah.**

**Ha.**

**Haha.**

**You can throw objects at me now. But really, yell at me when I'm too slow, it makes me work faster. There's a poll on my page for what you want updated. Vote for what you want to see. Worker Bee won't be on there. That's a pleasure project. LOVE YOU.)**


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